Chapter Text
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I Do Not Own Harry Potter.
All Characters Appearing In This Work Are Fictitious. Any Resemblance To Real Persons, Living Or Dead Is Purely Coincidental.
Chapter 6: Black and White.
Percy Weasley had found and was now ushering the Grangers into the same draughty classroom the teenagers had vacated only minutes before.
Kingsley sat waiting, shoulders tight, breath measured. He had twenty minutes until the Order of Merlin ceremony began, and his stomach reminded him he hadn’t eaten.
He thought of asking a house-elf for a plate, then dismissed the notion—not after Bill had also been pressed into service as the Goblins’ go-between.
Bill had handed him a sealed envelope from Ragnok, the head Goblin in the interim minutes between the teens leaving and the Grangers arriving.
A request, polite but firm had arrived: a meeting with Kingsley and the Headmistress after the ceremony, in her office, to discuss “matters of mutual importance was reauested.”
Kingsley hadn’t been surprised. He’d sent Bill back with his confirmation right away, then turned to greet Nigel and Martha warmly, making small talk while Percy layered charms to keep the conversation private.
When the wards settled, Kingsley leaned forward, voice steady, blunt, but not unkind.
“Forgive me for being brief, Nigel, Martha. My time is limited, but I want you to hear this clearly.
As you know we’ve just come through a war against the Dark Lord and his followers. What you don’t know is that the Ministry placed Dead or Alive bounties on a few of the worst—the Dark Lord himself, and Bellatrix Lestrange. Both are dead. Harry struck down the Dark Lord, Molly Weasley killed Bellatrix.
That means thirty thousand Galleons in reward money —about one hundred and fifty thousand pounds in your terms. Harry and Molly both don’t want it for reasons that you may ask them But I will not disclose as it is not my place to do so. However they’ve asked that the full amount go to you instead.
Now, we can’t simply hand you a cheque. For obvious reasons, it has to go through Gringotts. The money will be transferred into their accounts, and from there into your bank accounts by the Goblins of Gringotts through established procedures.
Your financial system is complicated, and my resources are stretched thin. However Percy has graciously volunteered his time to help you manage the paperwork. From what we have understood a legitimate proof is required to show the origin of the money.
Thus we’ll provide your solicitor or accountant with documents carrying a Confundus Charm. What story you tell is up to you, but I advise keeping it simple—perhaps an inheritance from a distant relative, recently deceased.
I need your answer now. Yes or no, it makes no difference to me—but I must have it before I leave this room. Ask your questions. I’ll give you what time I can.”
Nigel was the first to respond, jaw tight.
“Why are you delivering this news and not our daughter?
I assume this is her plan—it has her fingerprints all over it. And why must our answer be immediate? I dislike making snap decisions regarding finances unless I have to.”
Kingsley smiled ruefully.
“Hermione is currently in some sort of skulduggery meeting with the Headmistress and her friends Ginny and Luna. As to the reason I need an answer—simply put, that is the price she’s asked in exchange for her support in helping me navigate a sensitive political situation.
And before you ask no, it has nothing to do with sex or scandal. What I can say is that it touches on interracial politics.”
Martha raised a brow, amused.
“A bit defensive, are we, Kingsley? You must truly be short on time and patience if you’re being so forthcoming and blunt. But to my question—will this magic hurt anyone? And will it cause trouble later? You said our financial system is complex, and everyone will want their share.”
Kingsley laughed, the sound weary but genuine.
“Is it that obvious? Yes, I’m afraid juggling so many things is a bit stressful. But no—the charm won’t hurt anyone.
It simply makes the person handling the papers less inclined to ask awkward questions. Unlike a normal Confundus, these are industry-grade, modified by the Ministry to mimic real Muggle legal documents and persuades the muggleholding it to not look to closely and not ask too many questions.
. However I recommend if you take the money, you don't dilly dally too much on where to use it. Although strong the charm will start to fade after a weeks. So your documents better have been fully processed or else the Kneazle is most likely to escape the bag.
However to rhe spell itself what it does is simple. If you say you won the money in a lottery, the solicitor touching the papers will see whatever forms he needs to believe it. again apologies if i seem to be rambling I am just trying to be as clear and transparent as possible.
It’s a game of pretend writ large—a bit of social convincing and skulduggery. Nothing more.”
Nigel’s temper flared however.
“While I appreciate the gesture, Kingsley, I am afraid I cannot give you an answer right now.
Once again it seems our daughter has taken the reins of our life in her hands—without our permission or knowledge. I understand she is, for all intents and purposes, a war heroine and an adult umin both worlds.
But I do not appreciate the implication that I cannot provide for my own family.
She might have some sort of fancy wooden tree branch that makes magic, but her mother and I have both seen more summers than her. And magic notwithstanding, she should have consulted us.”
Martha tried to soothe him.
“Nigel dear, don’t be so cross. You heard Kingsley—it’s politics. How many times have you told me you had to make snap decisions as a soldier, without consulting hierarchy?
How many times have you had to make an emergency judgment call when dealing with patients?”
Nigel’s voice rose.
“Do not make excuses for her, Martha! She is not a child anymore!”
Percy broke in, raw and jagged, his voice carrying the weight of old scars.
“Nigel—forgive me, but that’s your ego talking. You’re angry your daughter made a decision without your say, and you’re right to feel it.
But you don’t see the scale of what’s at stake. Take it from me.
My ego once wrote a cheque reality couldn’t cash. As a result it cost me not only my younger brother’s life, but three years estranged from my family.
Don’t make the same mistake. Don’t let pride blind you to what’s being offered.
This isn’t about whether Hermione asked your permission—it’s about whether you’ll take the gift that could change your lives.
Love counts for a lot, but take it from a pauper when I say it’s gold that keeps the world turning. Don’t spit on it because your pride feels bruised.”
The words hung heavy, raw and jagged.
Silence pressed in, Nigel visibly trying to master his temper so as not to say what he surely thought to young Weasley.
Martha leaned in gently.
“He’s right, dear. That money will make a large difference. And remember Barney’s offer—our boss at the dental practice.
He’s mentioned more than a few times he is willing to sell the place to us if we can scrounge up the funds.
I’m not sure what price he’ll ask, but that money can help us secure the sale without draining our savings or taking a loan.
In this economy, we’d be slaves to the bank till we’re dead if we took out a loan. Do you really want to leave your daughter a legacy of debt? Besides this money will give us a chance to hit the ground running."
Nigel exhaled, shoulders loosening.
Kingsley glanced at his watch, then added with a wry smile.
“Look, I hate to play devil’s advocate, Nigel, but think of it this way—the money is your reward for raising a strong young woman like Hermione. And you can’t deny it’s ironic: Death Eaters indirectly funding a Muggle healer. Lady Fate has a sense of humour all her own.”
Even Nigel, angry as he still was, had to smile at the dark joke.
"I still don't like it, but I trust and love my daughter. Despite her misplaced principles sometimes, her heart's always been in the right place. case in point being her SPEW Campaign.
I might not have the whole picture but I think from the way this ceremony seems to be unfolding I think i can see where this train is headed."
Kingsley smiled wryly anf raised an eyebrow but said nothing more, instead letting the former soldier and current father speak.
Nigel let our a large breath and sighed before continuing “assuning we take this money, which im still hesitant about by the way, I presume the origins of the wizarding money itself are as white as snow?”
Kingsley blinked. Confused.
“White?”
Nigel gave a tight smile.
“It’s a term I picked up in the Army from an old sergeant. White money—clean, legitimate, above board. The opposite of black money, which is hidden, untaxed, or dirty. I want to be sure what lands in our accounts is the former, not the latter.”
Kingsley’s grin widened.
“Ah. Then yes—the money will be as white as a unicorn’s mane. No dodgy origins, every Knut, Sickle, and Galleon will come from a legitimate ministry approved source of funds.”